Actions vs Words
by WinterSky101
Summary: Courfeyrac's pick-up lines never worked on Combeferre. Of course, part of the issue could be because Combeferre thought he was joking, but still. It made things far more complicated than they needed to be. Courfeyrac/Combeferre. Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Even if every Les Mis fic was Courferre, there would still not be enough Courferre. I'm still going to try.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Les Mis.**

* * *

"Honey, do yourself a favor and put that garbage back down. Even I would be more absorbing to take home than that drivel."

Courfeyrac was rather proud of himself for the line. To his disappointment, Combeferre just arched an eyebrow at him.

"Why do you insist on trying all of your pick up lines out on me?" he sighed. Courfeyrac wasn't about to admit that he was waiting to see if any of them would _work_ , so he just shrugged.

"I've got to try them out on someone," he replied. "But honestly, that book is horrible. My sister read it and we had a great time making fun of it together. Don't bother. You can do much better."

"Would you consider yourself to be much better?" Combeferre asked dryly. Courfeyrac shrugged.

"You can do me if you want," he replied. Combeferre snorted in laughter.

"I suppose I did walk into that one," he murmured. Courfeyrac draped himself over Combeferre's shoulder, which took some maneuvering, considering he was half a foot shorter than Combeferre was.

"Come on. Let's go somewhere else. This bookstore is overpriced and badly stocked anyway." A passing employee gave Courfeyrac a dirty look, which he ignored. "We can find someplace better."

"Your bed?" Combeferre muttered, setting down the book and walking to the door. Courfeyrac grinned.

"I'm willing if you are," he replied. Combeferre rolled his eyes. Courfeyrac hated that his flirting was seen as nothing more than jokes, when he was actually _serious_ this time, but he knew that would be how it was until he vocalized his feelings in a non-joking way, and he had no desire to put his heart on the line like that.

"How about that little coffee shop instead?" Combeferre recommended. Courfeyrac grinned.

"The one with the killer hot chocolate?" he asked. Combeferre nodded. "Sounds perfect to me. Shall we?"

"Oh, after you," Combeferre replied, letting Courfeyrac step out first. He did so without so much as a moment's hesitation; the bookstore was stuffy. Outside was cold, but he slid on his gloves and buttoned his coat.

"It's so cold," Combeferre muttered, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck and nestling his face into it. Courfeyrac wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Body heat, then?" he asked. "We mustn't let you freeze, after all."

"I don't think I'm in danger of freezing," Combeferre replied, but he didn't push Courfeyrac away or move out of reach. "The coffee shop isn't that far away. We'll be there before I have time to freeze."

"Ah, but as your friend I must do all that I can to keep you from even getting close," Courfeyrac replied. He went up on tip-toe and pressed a dramatic kiss to Combeferre's cheek. "I couldn't let your pretty face get frostbite, could I?"

"We're not on stage, you know," Combeferre muttered, a flush creeping up his neck. "You don't have to act all the time."

"Who says I'm acting?" Courfeyrac countered, but he thought it was probably best not to do any more unexpected kisses. "We should have taken that last turn, by the way."

"Now you remind me," Combeferre sighed, turning around. They walked down the side street until they reached the door to the coffee shop, stepping inside. It was much warmer and smelled like coffee and cinnamon.

"This is such a great place," Courfeyrac sighed. Combeferre nodded.

"I love it too. Do you remember when we met here?" Courfeyrac nodded, not admitting that the memory was a big part of the reason he liked the place so much. "You almost spilled a coffee on my shirt."

"You walked into me!" Courfeyrac retorted, the easy argument one they'd had far too many times. "It's not my fault you weren't looking."

"Of course not," Combeferre murmured, looking amused as he went up to the counter. The barista was new; Courfeyrac didn't recognize her.

"A mocha cappuccino, please," Combeferre said, pushing Courfeyrac off him. The barista nodded, scrawling something on a cup.

"And for your boyfriend?" she asked. Combeferre's eyes went wide.

"We're-"

"I'm paying separately," Courfeyrac cut in smoothly, not refuting the idea that he was Combeferre's boyfriend, a thought he found rather enjoyable. The barista nodded, gave Combeferre his total, and took Courfeyrac's order. They were the only ones at the counter, so it didn't take long for them to get their drinks and sit down.

"You could branch out a bit," Courfeyrac told Combeferre, looking at his cup. "The mocha cappuccino will be the same as last time, I guarantee you."

"As if you can talk, always getting hot chocolate," Combeferre retorted. Courfeyrac shook his head, taking a sip.

"Ah, but I always get different types of hot chocolate. The peppermint and vanilla is really good, by the way."

"I'm sure," Combeferre murmured, lifting his cup to hide his smile. Courfeyrac took a self-satisfied sip of his hot chocolate. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Enjolras?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac checked.

"Yup," he replied. "We're supposed to study in half an hour. He wanted to make sure it was still on."

"Study for what?" Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac shrugged.

"Boring law stuff," he replied. "We've got a test coming up."

"Believe me, I know," Combeferre muttered. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes.

"Okay, maybe E can talk about tests a lot, but it's not like you're any different," he retorted. "I know your test schedule as well as you know it, and I'm not even in med school." Courfeyrac's phone buzzed again. "Enjolras is wondering if we can start studying now," he relayed, rolling his eyes.

"You might as well," Combeferre replied, checking his watch. "I have class in ten minutes, so I need to head out."

"I feel like I shouldn't enable him," Courfeyrac replied. Combeferre rolled his eyes.

"Enable what, his studying?" he retorted. Courfeyrac shook his head.

"The fact that he's sold his soul to law school. He needs a life."

"Just study with him," Combeferre replied, amusement in his tone. He stood. "I've really got to go."

Courfeyrac barreled into Combeferre with a hug that Combeferre honestly should have been expecting, considering how long they'd known each other. "Are we still on for tonight?"

"I wouldn't miss movie night for the world," Combeferre promised. "What are we watching?"

"It's E's turn to choose, so probably a horribly depressing documentary," Courfeyrac replied. "Or maybe _Mean Girls_."

"If you can talk him into _Mean Girls_ , I will be very impressed," Combeferre replied dryly. "I don't think that's happening again."

"A man can hope," Courfeyrac sighed, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "See you tonight, then."

"See you tonight," Combeferre replied as he left the coffee shop and turned right. Courfeyrac turned left, heading back to the apartment he shared with Enjolras.

Someday, he'd tell Combeferre how he felt in a way that Combeferre would actually recognize as serious. But today… Courfeyrac sighed as he took a sip from his hot chocolate. Actions speak louder than words, but Courfeyrac would stick with playful flirtation. He'd tell Combeferre how he felt someday, but not today.


	2. Chapter 2

Enjolras didn't even look up from his law textbook when Courfeyrac walked into their apartment and flopped face-first onto the couch. He didn't look up when Courfeyrac let out a high-pitched scream with his face shoved in the pillow either. Courfeyrac felt that he was being horribly mistreated.

"How can you _study_ at a time like this?" he demanded, picking his head up and giving Enjolras his best puppy-dog eyes. Enjolras made the mistake of looking up at him, then groaned and set his textbook aside.

"Combeferre?" he guessed, getting up and crossing to the couch.

" _Combeferre_ ," Courfeyrac agreed with a groan. "How does he do it?"

"How does he do what?" Enjolras asked, looking confused. Courfeyrac fell forward onto the pillows.

"Be so perfect," he moaned, although with his face in the cushion it sounded more like "bezofet." Enjolras patted him gingerly on the back.

"You could tell him how you feel," he suggested. Courfeyrac made a strangled noise, lifting his head up to look Enjolras dead in the eyes.

"Um, no. Not going to happen. At least, not now. Maybe someday. Ugh, E, crushes are _hard_!"

"I'm pretty sure he likes you back," Enjolras offered. Courfeyrac patted Enjolras on the head gently.

"Enjolras, you are very smart, but you don't know very much about relationships," he told him gently. "If Combeferre liked me, why wouldn't he do something when I flirt with him all the time?"

"Because he thinks you're joking and he's just as anxious about this as you are," Enjolras replied. Courfeyrac narrowed his eyes.

"Have you been reading self-help books again?" he demanded. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"That was _one time_!" he cried. "And no, I have not. I just think that you should use your words with Combeferre."

"Yes, and then he will use his words to tell me that he doesn't like me back and I will stop using my words and run away and _die_." Courfeyrac buried his face into the cushions again. Enjolras sighed.

"It's difficult to have a conversation when you do that, you know," he remarked. Courfeyrac flipped him off. Enjolras sighed again, but it was mostly for dramatic effect. He began rubbing Courfeyrac's back, his magic fingers easing the tension out of the knots in Courfeyrac's shoulders. Enjolras wasn't always great when it came to verbal comfort, but he was _amazing_ when it came to back rubs.

"You should talk to Combeferre, you know," he told Courfeyrac. On the one hand, Courfeyrac wanted to summon up some righteous indignation at being told that _again_ , but on the other hand, it was difficult to summon up righteous indignation when you had basically been turned into a pile of goo by a really good massage. "If you don't talk to him, I might make you talk to him. It'll do you both good."

"You wouldn't dare," Courfeyrac accused, but it sounded less accusatory than he had been going for. Enjolras patted his back, standing up. Courfeyrac whined at the end of the massage, but he _did_ feel much more relaxed.

"Do you want to study to take your mind off things?" Enjolras asked as he went back to his textbook. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes as he pushed himself upright.

"You want to study to take your mind of things," he retorted. "And I will enable you."

"Enable my studying?" Enjolras asked, puzzled. Courfeyrac nodded.

"Yes, enable your studying. It's a dreadful habit." Enjolras stared at Courfeyrac for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't understand you at all," he admitted. "Are we studying or not?"

"I guess we are," Courfeyrac sighed. "Pass me my textbook?"

"It's literally on the table right in front of you," Enjolras replied dryly. "It's closer to you than it is to me."

" _Fine_ ," Courfeyrac groaned, leaning forward and grabbing the textbook. "Do you want to quiz me? Should I quiz you?"

"I'll quiz you," Enjolras replied. "Three ways to tell that your best friend is in love with you. Go."

Courfeyrac glared at Enjolras. "Not funny," he retorted. "Honestly, E, it's a good thing you're pretty."

Enjolras scowled. "Fine. What's the origin behind the Miranda rights?"

"Miranda vs Arizona," Courfeyrac replied promptly. He could explain this in his sleep. "Ernesto Miranda wasn't told of his rights when he was arrested and it led to the violation of his Fifth and Sixth Amendment rights. The Supreme Court declared that people must be told their rights before being interrogated."

"Wait a moment," Enjolras said suddenly, reaching for his laptop. Courfeyrac sighed, used to this. Enjolras frequently interrupted study sessions when their studying suddenly made him think of something else or remember something he had to do. As Enjolras started tapping at his computer, Courfeyrac flipped through his textbook listlessly. He really didn't _want_ to study, even though he knew that he should. But studying wasn't the _only_ thing he had to do…

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to run lines with me for _Romeo and Juliet_?" Courfeyrac asked Enjolras. Enjolras didn't even look up. Courfeyrac shrugged and set aside his textbook, going to his bedroom. His script was sitting on the bed where he'd left it, his lines highlighted. He was playing Mercutio, which Combeferre had immediately told him was a good match. Combeferre was always willing to run lines with him, something that Enjolras rarely did. Courfeyrac didn't actually mind that too much; Enjolras was a great orator, but he wasn't much of an actor.

Before Courfeyrac could start trying to run lines himself - which was way less fun than running lines with someone else - his phone buzzed. The text was from Combeferre, which was strange. He was supposed to be in class, and Courfeyrac had never known Combeferre to text in class, unlike most of their friends (and, to be perfectly honest, Courfeyrac himself).

 _class is canceled_ , the text read, which explained things. _how are you and e?_

 _not studying_ , Courfeyrac replied. _e got distracted._ Courfeyrac looked down at the paper clipped pages of the script and added, _wanna run r &j lines with me?_

 _what part?_ Combeferre replied. Courfeyrac grinned.

 _act two, scene one,_ he replied, well aware that it was one of Combeferre's favorite scenes to practice. He would have made a great Benvolio, if not for the fact that he hated performing in front of other people.

 _i'll be there in five,_ Combeferre replied. Courfeyrac beamed.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time evening rolled around, Courfeyrac had the entire scene memorized (and Combeferre had the whole thing memorized as well) and Enjolras had written a paper that wasn't due for another three weeks in a sudden burst of inspiration. When dinner time rolled around, Combeferre lured Enjolras away from his computer while Courfeyrac ordered pizza, and by seven o'clock they were all sitting on the couch, pizza in front of them, getting the movie ready.

"Wait, E, is this a movie and not a depressing documentary?" Courfeyrac asked, staring wide-eyed as the opening of the movie began to play.

"I don't always choose depressing documentaries," Enjolras muttered petulantly. "And yes, this is a movie called _What If_. I thought it looked like it would be interesting to watch."

Courfeyrac quickly found out, to his horror, that Enjolras thought _What If_ would be interesting to watch because it was about two best friends falling in love. Courfeyrac had been _betrayed_.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he hissed to Enjolras, who shushed him. Courfeyrac pouted, but he kept watching. It _was_ an engaging movie. And also, well, Daniel Radcliffe.

The movie ended, of course, with Daniel Radcliffe and Zoe Kazan's characters realizing that they really were meant to be together and that they had never been "just friends." It was a good movie, although Courfeyrac would never admit that to Enjolras. The bad thing was that it was about the one topic he wanted to discuss the _least_ with Combeferre.

"What did you guys think?" Enjolras asked. "I don't like the idea that men and women can't be friends without wanting to have sex because it's a ridiculous and heteronormative concept, but I thought it was a good movie otherwise."

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replied. Combeferre mumbled something next to him. Enjolras stared at the two of them.

"I'm glad everything worked out for the characters," he added. "Imagine if they'd never told each other their feelings. They never would have gotten together and been happy like they did."

Courfeyrac glared at Enjolras. "I suppose," Combeferre replied quietly. Enjolras looked from Courfeyrac to Combeferre for a moment, then threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Okay, I know you both made me promise not to tell, but I am _done_." Turning to Combeferre, Enjolras stated. "Combeferre. Courfeyrac doesn't want me to tell you, but he likes you." Courfeyrac's jaw dropped. How could Enjolras have said that? Courfeyrac was fairly certain no one in the history of the world had ever been betrayed as much as Enjolras had just betrayed him.

"And Courf?" Enjolras added, turning to Courfeyrac. "Ferre doesn't want me to tell you, but he likes you."

Wait, _what?_

Courfeyrac snuck a look at Combeferre, who looked about as shellshocked as Courfeyrac felt. Enjolras looked at the two of them and nodded sharply. "Okay. I've done my part. Now I'm going to go into my room and listen to music very loudly. Please don't have sex on the couch."

Combeferre opened his mouth and closed it a few times, blinking rapidly. "We-" he began.

"No promises," Courfeyrac interrupted, because after what Enjolras had just done, Courfeyrac wanted to see him squirm a little. Also, the thought of sex on the couch with Combeferre wasn't exactly something Courfeyrac would be _against_.

"So," Courfeyrac stated as Enjolras disappeared into his bedroom. Combeferre was still staring at him with wide eyes. Desperate to make things less weird, Courfeyrac adopted a scolding tone and said, "I'm very disappointed in you, Combeferre."

"You're what?" Combeferre asked, frowning. Courfeyrac shrugged.

"I thought we promised that we wouldn't keep secrets from each other. Tsk, tsk."

"As if you haven't been keeping the same secret from me!" Combeferre protested. Courfeyrac waved a hand.

"Semantics. I'm disappointed in you."

"Whatever shall I do?" Combeferre asked, amusement clear on his face. Courfeyrac stroked his chin.

"Well, I think we ought to be honest with each other from now on," he declared. Combeferre nodded.

"A good idea," he agreed.

"And to be honest," Courfeyrac added, "if you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to die."

"So overdramatic," Combeferre sighed, but the smile didn't leave his face as he leaned forward to give Courfeyrac a kiss.

"Are you better now?" Combeferre asked as he pulled away. Courfeyrac smiled breathlessly.

"I don't know. We should probably kiss again, just to be safe."

Combeferre laughed as he did just that.

(They didn't have sex on the couch, but it was a close thing.)

* * *

 **And here we are, at the end of this little piece. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll see you all next time!**


End file.
